“If you do not have it, then who does?” Pelletier said urgently. “I assumed you had taken both with you when you left Chartres.”
“I did.”
“But-”
Alai’s put her hand on her father’s arm. “Let Simeon explain.”
For a moment, it looked as if Pelletier might lose his temper, then he nodded. “Very well,” he said gruffly. “Tell your story.”
“How like you she is, my friend,” Simeon chuckled. “Shortly after your departure from Chartres, I received word from the Navigataire that a guardian would come and take the second book, the Book of Potions, although nothing to indicate who that person might be. I held myself ready, waiting always. Time passed, I grew older, but still no one came. Then, in the year of your Lord 1194-shortly before the terrible fire that destroyed the cathedral and much of the city of Chartres-a man did come, a Christian, a knight, calling himself Philippe de Saint-Maure.”
“His name is familiar. He was in the Holy Land at the same time as I was, although we did not meet.” Pelletier frowned. “Why had he waited so long?”
“That, my friend, is the question I asked myself. Saint-Maure passed me a merel, in the appropriate manner. He wore the ring that you and I both are honored to wear. I had no reason to doubt him… and yet-” Simeon shrugged. “There was something false about him. His eyes were sharp, like a fox. I did not trust him. He did not seem to me the sort of man Harif would have chosen. There was no honor in him. So I decided, despite the tokens of good faith he carried, that I should test him.”
The words had slipped out before she could stop them. “How so?”
“Alai’s,” her father warned.
“It is all right, Bertrand. I pretended not to understand. I wrung my hands, humble, apologetic, begging his pardon but he must have confused me with someone else. He drew his sword.”
“Which confirmed your suspicion he was not who or what he claimed to be.”
“He threatened and railed against me, but my servants came and he was outnumbered, so he had no choice but to withdraw.” Simeon leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper. “As soon as I was sure he had gone, I wrapped the two books inside a bundle of old clothes and took shelter with a Christian family nearby who I trusted not to betray me. I could not decide what to do for the best. I was not certain of what I knew. Was he an impostor? Or was he indeed a guardian, but one whose heart had been blackened by greed or the promise of power and wealth? Had he betrayed us? If the former, then there was yet a chance that the real guardian would come to Chartres and find me gone. If the latter, I felt it my duty to find out what I could. Even now, I do not know if I chose wisely.”
“You did what you thought was right,” said Alai’s, ignoring the warning look from her father telling her to keep silent. “No man can do more.”
“Right or wrong, the fact is I did not go for two days more. Then the mutilated body of a man was found floating in the river Eure. His eyes and tongue had been put out. The rumor spread he was a knight in the service of the eldest son of Charles d’Evreux, whose lands are not far from Chartres.”
“Philippe de Saint-Maure.”
Simeon nodded. “The Jews were blamed for the murder. Straight away the reprisals started. I was a convenient scapegoat. Word spread that they were coming for me. There were witnesses, they claimed, who’d seen Saint-Maure at my door, witnesses who would swear that we argued and blows were exchanged. This decided me. Maybe this Saint-Maure was who he said he was. Maybe he was an honest man, maybe not. It no longer mattered. He was dead-I believed-because of what he had discovered about the Labyrinth Trilogy. His death and the manner of it persuaded me that there were others involved. That the secret of the Grail had indeed been betrayed.”
“How did you escape?” asked Alai’s.
“My servants were already gone, and safe I hoped. I hid until the following morning. As soon as the gates of the city were opened, having shaved my beard, I slipped out in the guise of an elderly woman. Esther came with me.”
“So you were not there as they were building the stone labyrinth in the new cathedral?” said Pelletier. Alai’s was mystified to see he was smiling, as if at some private joke. “You have not seen it.”
“What is it?” she demanded.
Simeon chuckled, addressing himself only to Pelletier. “No, although I hear it has served its purpose well. Many are drawn there to that ring of dead stone. They look, they search, not understanding that only a false secret lies beneath their feet.”
“What is this labyrinth?” repeated Alai’s.
Still they paid her no attention.
“I would have given you shelter in Carcassona. A roof over your head, protection. Why did you not come to me?”
“Believe me, Bertrand, I wanted nothing more. But you forget how different the north was from these more tolerant lands of the Pays d’Oc. I could not travel freely, my friend. Life was hard for Jews at that time. We were under curfew, our businesses were regularly attacked and looted.” He paused for breath. “Besides, I never would have forgiven myself if I had led them-whoever they might be-to you. When I fled Chartres that night, I had no thought of where I was heading. The safest course of action seemed to be to disappear until the fuss had died down. In the event, the fire drove all other matters out of my mind.”
“How did you find yourself in Besiers?” said Alai’s, determined to rejoin the conversation. “Did Harif send you here?”
Simeon shook his head. “It was chance and good fortune, Alai’s, not design. I journeyed first to Champagne, where I passed the winter. The following spring, as soon as the snows had melted, I headed south. I was lucky enough to fall in with a group of English Jews, fleeing persecution in their own land. They were heading for Besiers. It seemed as good a destination as any. The city had a reputation for tolerance-Jews were in positions of trust and authority, our learning, our skills were respected. Its proximity to Carcassona meant that I would be on hand if Harif needed me.” He turned to Bertrand. “God, in his wisdom, knows how hard it has been knowing that you were but a few days’ ride away, but caution and wisdom dictated it had to be thus.”
He sat forward, his black eyes alive. “Even then there were verses, lays, circulating in the courts of the north. In Champagne, the troubadours and minstrels were singing of a magical cup, a life-giving elixir, too close to the truth to be ignored.” Pelletier nodded. He too had heard such songs. “So weighing all things in the balance, it was safer to keep myself apart. I would never have forgiven myself if I had led them to your door, my friend.”
Pelletier gave a long sigh. “I fear, Simeon, that despite our best efforts we have been betrayed, although I have no hard and fast proof of it. There are those who know of the connection between us, I am convinced of it. Whether they also know the nature of our bond, I cannot say.”
“Something has happened to make you think this?”
“A week ago or more, Alai’s came across a man floating in the river Aude, a Jew. His throat had been cut and his left thumb severed from his hand. Nothing else was taken. There was no reason to think so, but I thought of you. I thought he had been mistaken for you.” He paused. “Before this there have been other indications. I confided something of my responsibility to Alai’s, in the event that something happened to me and I was unable to return to Carcassona.”
This is the moment to tell him why you are come.
“Father, since you-”
He held up a hand to stop her interrupting. “Have there been any indications your whereabouts have been discovered, Simeon? Either by those who sought you in Chartres or others?”